


Not The Time To Be Jealous

by laschatzi



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:25:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laschatzi/pseuds/laschatzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma overhears a conversation between her boyfriend and Tinkerbell and is reminded of an episode in Neverland, when she'd questioned Hook about his relationship with the fairy. Not because she's jealous, no. Why would she be jealous?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not The Time To Be Jealous

**Author's Note:**

> part of my follower milestone project on tumblr, based on a prompt by simpledaydreamer

 

Emma opened the exit door of the diner that led to Granny's porch, looking for some fresh air and for her boyfriend. She spotted him sitting at one of the small round tables with his back to her, a glass of beer in his hand. He wasn't alone; sitting beside him, also with her back to Emma, was Tinkerbell. She froze to the spot, not wanting to disturb, but also a little curious.

 

“Is he good to you?” Killian asked.

 

The blonde fairy chuckled. “You sound like the brother I never had.”

 

He tilted his head. “Well, we are old friends, right?”

 

Emma could see Tinkerbell's profile in the moonlight when she turned to face Killian. “Friends?” she echoed in an amused tone, stretching out the word, then she shrugged graciously. “I guess you could say that. Who would've imagined it?” Emma held her breath without even being aware of it; she'd always been curious about the earlier relationship between her pirate and the fairy, had always suspected that in their shared past there had been something going on between them that went beyond a mere platonic friendship. But she'd never explicitly asked, and Killian had never offered specific information. She felt guilty for eavesdropping, but... _damn_. It was stronger than her. Was she going to find out now?

 

“So,” he replied, “is he?”

 

Tinkerbell smiled down at her own beer. “Yes, he is good to me, Hook.” She raised her glass in an inviting gesture. “Looks like that happy ending thing turned out good for both of us.”

 

Killian smiled and touched his own glass to the fairy's. “And it didn't even take pixie dust.”

 

Tinkerbell laughed softly, the sound of her voice doing her name justice. “We both got very lucky.”

 

He tilted his head again. “Aye, that we did,” he replied fondly, “and I still have no idea how I deserve it.”

 

Emma blushed, and her feeling of guilt doubled when she heard what he'd said. Whatever had happened between him and Tinkerbell, back in Neverland, held no importance. _None_. Especially not today, when they were celebrating Tinkerbell's eve-of-wedding party. She quietly retreated towards the door, praying that they wouldn't notice her – and they didn't. She didn't hear Tinkerbell's answer, but she was certain it was a reassuring one. Suddenly, a memory flashed through her mind... a memory of a day long ago...

 

...when they were the leaders of a scratch group fighting its way through a hostile jungle where every wrong move could kill you. Like most times, she and Hook were a respectable way ahead of the rest.

 

She scrutinized the scruffy pirate from the side. “So... you have struggled against Pan together, you and... Tinkerbell?”

 

He didn't look at her, his blue eyes scanning the surroundings. “Aye.”

 

“And you were... close.” Emma tried to make her voice sound nonchalant. Actually, she didn't really care, did she? Just because she'd kissed him in an act of emotional overload, in a completely surreal situation... just because he'd said some stupid, stupid things about _meeting her_ and _winning her heart_ and _her wanting him_... no, that meant nothing.

 

“Mutual foes always tend to bring people together,” his low voice woke her from her thoughts, “as you can see with our little rescue party here.” He didn't elaborate any further, although he hadn't really answered her. Instead, he was scrutinizing her. Emma caught his amused sideways glance and frowned.

 

“ _What?_ ” she snapped and stood rooted to the spot.

 

Hook stopped, too, and turned to her. He tilted his head and raised that mocking eyebrow that always made her blood boil – not entirely due to anger though. “Oh, you seem quite... _intrigued_ by my relationship with the Lady Bell.”

 

She glared at him. “ _What?!_ Not at all. I'm just...” – she waved her hand a little hectically – “...just trying to get my facts straight.” With a little snort, she shook her head like the thought alone was ridiculous. “Why would I be interested?”

 

He couldn't help but run his tongue along the inside of his teeth. “Well, I assumed so, love, because you... questioned.” He pursed his lips into his best pirate smirk.

 

“Well, you assumed wrong,” she replied in what she hoped was an indifferent tone. “I couldn't care less about how many females you... how do you say it – _dallied_ with – over the last three centuries.” The edge in her voice, however, showed clearly how _not_ indifferent she was.

 

He stood there in his usual posture, self-confident to the point of causing annoyance, legs spread, ringed thumb hooked in his ridiculously enormous silver belt buckle. “Why, Swan, are we talking about _all_ those fair ladies now?” he inquired. “I thought the subject was just me and the Lady Bell.” He raised that mocking eyebrow again, definitely enjoying the game – and her obvious jealousy; in fact, it elated him.

 

Emma felt a hot blush creep from her neck over her face; she'd betrayed herself. “Forget it,” she growled.

 

His grin grew wider, accompanied by a devilish sparkle in his damn blue eyes, increasing her instinct to either slap or kiss it roughly off of his sinful mouth. “Oh, but how could I, when it seems to be of such importance to you?” he teased and added: “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous.”

 

“Get over yourself, Hook!” she hissed furiously. “I really don't need to know.” She pushed him aside with determination and hurried past him.

 

He stopped her with his hook at her elbow in a fluent move. “Perhaps I want you to know.” His voice was serious now, and she whirled around, her fiery eyes piercing him, but she was listening, lips pressed together. He returned her gaze, and every trace of mockery was all of a sudden gone from his eyes, his stare so intense now that she couldn't have looked away, even if she'd wanted to. “Yes, I've entertained a fair share of ladies during the last three centuries – not a surprise, I'm sure, given my charms,” he couldn't resist throwing in. “No, it weren't as many as you'd ween,” he specified when Emma rolled her eyes. “And no, I'm not revealing anything about the Lady Bell. That's not in a gentleman's code.”

 

She was a little thrown off track; it wasn't what she'd expected. She knew – _superpower_ – that he'd told her the truth: he'd surely been far from celibate, but he was also far from being the womanizer he'd always pretended to be... and it was obviously important to him that she believed him. _Dangerous grounds._ She knew it would have been wiser to wriggle her arm out of his hook and end this conversation, she _knew_ it, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it.

 

Emma left her arm where it was and huffed in an annoyed voice: “Are you done talking?”

 

He pulled her a little forward with his hook at her arm, just a little closer, and she could feel the little hairs at the back of her neck bristle. “I have one more thing to mention,” he added, his voice a low rumble.

 

She withstood his stare and raised her chin. “So get it over with.”

 

He tilted his head. “I never broke the heart of one of them,” he replied slowly, “nor did I promise to _win_ it.”

 

That had been unexpected. Emma averted her eyes for a moment and sighed. “It's not that simple, Hook.” Her voice had lost its edge.

 

He snorted a little sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I'm fairly certain it will be anything but simple,” he retorted dryly and threw her a challenging look. “Regardless, you should know that, beside being a very patient man, I have one remarkable quality underneath all that leather.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “ _Really?_ ” Of course he couldn't do without a lewd remark; how could she have thought for a minute he was trying to be serious? Emma was annoyed at herself.

 

Hook leaned a little forward. “Aye, _really_ , Swan,” he replied pointedly. “Three hundred years have rendered me not only patient...” – he stepped into her personal space, like he belonged there ( _and maybe he does_ , shot through her mind before she could stop the thought) – “...they've made me _persistent_.” He popped the _'t'_ a little, and she felt it all the way down to her toes.

 

For a moment, they were both silent, their stares locked, the air between them buzzing with electricity. His answer – _another promise?_ – had left her at a loss for words. And then, the spell was broken when a sudden dry rustle reminded Emma that they were not alone on their path.

 

"Is something wrong?" Behind them, Mary Margaret had appeared out of the jungle. Her words were directed at her daughter, but her suspicious eyes darted to Hook. His unfaltering gaze rested on Emma, a slight, amused smile playing around his lips. He left it to her to answer her mother.

 

"Nothing's wrong," she replied quickly in Mary Margaret's direction and shot him an annoyed glance. "Are you going ahead or what?" she huffed impatiently.

 

He tilted his head briefly and quirked a mocking eyebrow, all the cocky pirate again. "Of course, love." Then he turned around and continued his way along the narrow path. Before Emma could follow on his heels, Mary Margaret held her back, putting one hand to her forearm.

 

"What was that about?" she asked under her breath.

 

"Nothing," Emma shrugged. "I just wanted to know if the fairy is trustworthy."

 

"You want to know if Tinkerbell can be trusted, and you ask _him?!_ " Mary Margaret blurted out. “He's a _pirate!_ ”

 

"Exactly!" Emma retorted in a defensive tone that made her mother raise a suspicious eyebrow. "A pirate is most unlikely to trust anybody easily," she said, and in her mind she added ruefully: _and rightfully so_ , remembering her own betrayal of Hook. "I'm sure if he trusts her, so can we." After the tiniest pause, she added: "They spent plenty of time together."

 

"Uh-huh," came Mary Margaret's vague answer, and Emma turned away from her almost briskly, before she could probe any further. Fixing her green eyes on Hook's leather-clad figure some twenty feet ahead, she pressed her lips together grimly. Why had she even started that conversation? And why was she so pleased with the outcome? His husky voice echoed in the back of her mind: _If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous_ …

 

… Emma woke from her daydream and smiled when she felt a strong arm being wrapped around her waist from behind. "Here you are," Killian's low voice caressed her cheek. "I was outside with Tinkerbell for a little talk. I hope you don't mind."

 

She turned around in his embrace to face him and smiled up at him, her hands crawling around his torso. "Why would I mind? You know I'm not the clingy type."

 

"Mh," he hummed in a soft voice and tilted his head, "I seem to recall you can be _quite_ clingy, Swan."

 

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Don't I always,” came his smooth answer.

 

Emma shook her head with a smile and stepped out of his embrace with a little sigh, her hand reaching for his. “Come on, pirate, let's set sails and go home,” she prompted warmly.

 

“Ah, I knew you'd say that,” he teased, a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

 

“Not what you think, sailor,” she replied, knowing he'd take the address as a challenge. “We should get some rest. You have a bride to give away tomorrow.”

 


End file.
